


You Smell Like Promises

by lovelyal



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Attempted Murder, F/F, F/M, M/M, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Prince Merlin (Merlin)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:28:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27341230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovelyal/pseuds/lovelyal
Summary: In which Arthur can't stand an omega's smell and Merlin just wants to get through this stupid Mating Ball in one piece. Together they will uncover a dastardly plot while discovering more about themselves.A story full of mystery and romance. Watch these two unconventional Alphas fall in love in a world conspiring against them.
Relationships: Gwen/Lancelot (Merlin), Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Morgana (Merlin)/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 56





	You Smell Like Promises

It was a crisp, dewy morning and Arthur was buzzing to go on a hunting trip, his last opportunity before winter truly hit. The leaves had all been gone for weeks, marking the tail end Autumn. Arthur knew the need for meat before it became too cold to hunt and all the beasts went into hibernation was fierce. And for him, it was the last time to ride his stallion and be with his fellow men until Spring.

Arthur quickly dressed into his thick outerwear and was pulling on his warmest wool socks when his manservant, George, entered quietly. 

He walked in with small, measured steps and set down a tray of breakfast on the table by the fire. Arthur could smell the fresh rolls of bread, honeyed grape jam, and fresh cut apples. Mixing in the air wafted the scent of George. Innocent, but smelling of sour cranberries and roses. Though not disgusting, it annoyed and put him on edge. It made him feel itchy.

Arthur’s lip pulled up and he subtly wiped his nose on the edge of his sleeve. “You are dismissed.” He said curtly. The least amount of time in George’s presence, the better.

“My lord, the King has requested to see you.” He bowed deeply, looking distinctly uncomfortable standing there. He edged his feet toward the door, but did not turn and run off like he usually did.

“What for? And what are you doing standing there? I dismissed you.” He spat.

“His highness has requested me to escort you, my lord.” He bowed once more, nose practically molding with the stone floor. 

Arthur gritted his teeth. He was only escorted to meetings when they were of urgent importance. When he was younger, it was used as a way to keep him from running off and shirking his duties to his King. He hadn’t been coddled like this since before he became head knight 5 years ago. Now as an adult, Arthur felt like growling at the show of distrust. 

His father had fully readied him for taking the throne with years of tutoring and training with the knights, yet he was afraid Arthur would fail him by not showing up at the throne room. He felt deep betrayal stab his flank. Arthur moved his hands from where they were resting on his sock clad feet and clenched them.

“Very well. This sounds urgent. I will finish my meal when I come back.” Arthur deftly laced his boots and stood, stalking to the door with purpose. Whatever his father needed to tell him must be unpleasant thus be handled as swiftly as possible. 

“Yes sire!” George squeaked, chasing after his long gait. 

They reached the throne room soon enough and Arthur burst in. He hardly waited for George to open the door for him and announce his arrival in that high, crackling voice of his. Brushing past him, Arthur got a strong dose of that sickening cranberry rose. The prince ignored the growing migraine at the back of his skull and looked up at his King and father, Uther Pendragon. At his the man's side sat Lady Lynelle, his father's mistress. Arthur closed his eyes to center himself.

“Father, Lady Lynelle.” He greeted bowing his head an inch. Meeting the King’s eyes, Arthur breathed in the strong pine and pepper scent filling his nostrils. It made his nose itch and he fought the urge to rub it. Uther smelled foreboding and distinct. His sharp scent was discernible from across the room. As a boy Arthur was jealous of his father’s powerful odor. It was the scent of a King, of a leader. But then as an adult he sensed the corrupt nature of his father’s smell. His refusal to change even for the better. He was arrogant and narcissistic. 

To his left sat Lady Lynelle, daughter of Lord Mark who was one of Uther’s most trusted counsellors. Arthur thought that the man was a sleazy coward and his daughter a crow, but he kept those thoughts to himself.

It was not odd to see her by his side that morning. His father had been courting Lady Lynelle for the last few weeks. They would probably not marry. Kings seldom remarried if their wives died. He had to keep the Queen’s throne vacant to preserve Igraine’s honor. 

But she was quickly on her way to becoming Uther’s official mistress.

“Ahh Arthur, you have arrived quite quickly. Good, good. Let’s skip the pleasantries, shall we? We have much to discuss, Son. Come, sit!” Uther exclaimed joyfully. The flush high on his cheeks and the jugs upon the table were very telling. 

Lynelle was flushed as well. All the way down her neck and bosom.

“Yes, Arthur dear, come sit!” She crooned. She wasn’t more than a few years older than himself, yet had the gall to call him ‘dear’.

Arthur winced and made his way over to the table. This new behavior regarding his father was unsettling to the young prince. Arthur didn’t like changes. Uther was a stable man. A solid rock in good and bad.

One thing Arthur could always count on in his father was his serious nature. Getting drunk at just a few hours past first light was unheard of.

It was obviously influenced by the woman to Uther’s left.

He sat at his father’s right hand and kept his arms glued to his sides, still too weary to relax. 

Now that he was close enough he unfortunately had to breathe in Lady Lynelle’s wet rat scent. How Uther could enjoy that was beyond him.

Uther straightened his back and leaned forward, more pine and pepper wafting out of him. His eyes lost their crinkle and the flush seemed to seep right out of his cheeks, leaving the stony face that Arthur was used to.

“Son, have you made any progress with the noblewomen omegas you have seen?” Uther uttered shortly. Arthur’s worry grew immediately. His face paled and he licked his lips in an uncharacteristic sign of nerves. The prince hoped his father hadn’t noticed. Uther’s eyes flicked down and narrowed. He did.

“Well, Father. No. Unfortunately. Though not by lack of trying.” Lie. “I have met several times with Lady Cassandra of King Cenred’s kingdom. We are still courting, but she's shy and wants to do the process slowly.” Lie. Arthur wouldn’t mate with her for his life. She smelled like the harsh cleaning liquid that Gaius brewed up to kill mould. 

“Arthur. Stop playing with me. You have used Lady Cassandra as your excuse for the last 3 years and I will not have it any more.” He began. He looked over at the insipid woman with a smile. “Lynelle, please inform Arthur what knowledge you gained from Cassandra during her last visit.”

“Why certainly, my King.” She replied brightly.

“We had a wonderful little walk in the castle gardens speaking of Lady Things. I was just oh so excited to hear from Uther that you two started a courtship! Of course that was the first bit of gossip on the agenda. Imagine my surprise when she had no idea what I was speaking of! Poor girl said you never have enough time for her to even think of a courtship. Broke her heart.

“In fact, she is currently in a courtship with someone back in Cenred’s Kingdom. What a nasty little lie to tell, Arthur. We don’t like being led astray by lies dear. No we don’t.”

“Thank you darling.” Uther lifted her hand and placed a wet looking kiss on her knuckles. He gently let her go and shifted his now annoyed expression onto Arthur.

“I know omegas smell horrid to you, though I do not understand why. We cannot keep waiting for a suitable noble omega to simply show up! You are 22 years old and we cannot have an unmarried King. You know how the people will talk.” 

Uther narrowed his eyes a fraction. 

“We must have a Mating Ball.”

Arthur opened his mouth to protest, but one look from Uther and he closed it with a click. Lady Lynelle giggled. He glared back at her.

Uther leaned back in his chair and continued, waving a perfunctory gesture with his hand indicating to the servant in the room to pour another measure of wine.

“Morale is low, Son. With our recent battle with King Olaf, our armies are tired. And the cold comes sooner this year. Lord Mark predicts that the heaviest snowfall in the last decade approaches.

“This ball is not only for you to finally find a nice omega to settle down with, but to give something for the people to hope for. This is crucial.” Uther said. Arthur gnawed on the inside of his cheek.

“I understand, very well Father. And when should I expect this Ball to occur?” Arthur hoped it would be months before the ball. To delay the inevitable a little longer. Maybe even give him time to search for an omega that didn’t make him want to heave, though he knew it was futile.

Uther smirked and directed his startling black eyes at Arthur’s. “The preparations have already started. The ball will be underway in just two week. Do be there Arthur. Or I will find you and drag you there myself. Am I understood?” Arthur gulped.

“Perfectly.” Arthur said, barely a whisper.

“Good. You are dismissed.” 

Lynelle took a heavy gulp of her wine. 

“Bye bye Arthur dear!”

Arthur stood as steadily as he could and walked toward the door stoically. George was already opening the door in preparation for his departure.

“And Son?” Uther called out after him. His golden head twisted back to look at the King’s smug face.

“I will not tolerate any more dallying about in finding a wife. You will bond with an omega on the evening of the ball and present her to me in the morning. If not, you will find yourself stuck with an omega of my choosing. Good day Arthur. Do not disappoint me.” 

With that Uther picked up his cutlery and continued his meal, a clear dismissal that Arthur was all too fine with taking. He quickly exited and returned to his chambers, immediately dismissing George to get some time alone to think.

With his door closed and locked, Arthur pushed the windows open despite the chill and stuck his head out into the biting wind. His nose cleared of pine, pepper, wet rat, cranberry, and rose and so his head cleared too.

"That conniving bastard." He sighed. Uther knew exactly how to push every one of his son's buttons. 

After a few long moments soaking up the clean air, he stepped back from the window and rubbed his face roughly, simultaneously trying to warm up his frozen face and wipe away the Mating Ball altogether.

Arthur hated mating balls.

He hated mingling with the unmated omegas prancing about with their hair pinned and dresses not reaching up past their bosoms. They paraded about baring their smooth necks showing their virginity. 

‘Fresh and ripe!’ is what his father said one evening early in Arthur’s childhood. He remembered his young voice was only just beginning to change. Arthur remembered the King’s hands creeped up the frock of a blushing maid. The older man’s mind was addled from his fourth goblet of wine. A despicable sight, but he could never tell his father that.

On scent, Arthur could not disagree with his father’s opinion more. Omegas smelled awful.

Arthur always had a sensitive nose. He picked up scents from meters away and couldn’t stand it when they were too strong. Morgana wore perfumes so strong to cover up her own scent, it felt like he was choking with it. It made his head swim. 

The sharp, cloying scent of an omega was the worst one of all. Most alphas drooled at the smell of it, their breeches already growing tighter, but not Arthur. The scent of an omega was a tool to ensnare a strong alpha. It threw even the best of men into a tizzy willing to fight for the maiden’s hand. Many had described the smell to Arthur as decadent, ambrosial, devine, the sweetest of flowers. But to Arthur it was nauseating. 

The idea of not just one unmated omega, but hundreds gathered in a stuffy room seemed like Arthur’s own personal hell come to life.

Arthur instead loved the smell of nature. The smell of the earth whilst on patrol. The rain drizzling on the leaves on a foggy morning. The soft scents of herbs in Gaius’ quarters. The sweat on his knights whilst on a hunting trip. To others it may have seemed simple and homely, but to the prince these scents brought warmth and happiness.

He would never admit it to his father, but Arthur hoped he would never mate with an omega. At night, between the safety of his sheets, he fantasized about running off with some beta, or even another alpha, if they were compatible. They would find some land far away from Camelot and become farmers or something alike. He would live quietly without the responsibility of being the prince. He could get away from all the perfumes of court and live peacefully.

Whenever he fell asleep to such fancies, he awoke happy, but ashamed for he could never live a life like that. His duty was to Camelot and to his father. He couldn’t leave Uther without an heir and his knights without a leader.

Arthur sat on his chair in front of the desk and ripped off his hunting boots. His feet were sweating despite the chill of the room even the roaring fireplace couldn’t battle. 

Then there were three soft knocks at the door. All bundled in quick succession. Arthur smiled minutely. Only one person in the castle knocked like that.

The man quickly got up and opened the door, revealing the sweet face of Gwen, Morgana’s maidservant.

She smiled at him brightly and he breathed in deeply taking in the honey and lavender that was Gwen. It was early enough in the morning that Gwen had yet to see Morgana, so she did not smell faintly of her lady’s perfume. Just fresh and pleasing. Like a warm forest with large mossy beds to lay upon at night.

“Good morning sire! I have just been informed that a ball will be taking place, so I’ve come to take your measurements. The King wants you to look perfect! Not that you’re not perfect already. You are perfectly handsome, just as you are. Not that I think you’re handsome. I don’t think that. No I do! I mean, you look just lovely normally and I’m going to just stop speaking and measure you, okay?” Gwen blushed.

With that Gwen brushed past him and stiffly indicated where he should stand and how to position his arms.

“Now why is it you have to measure me again? I couldn’t have changed that much since the last time.” Arthur drawled.

She stopped her bustling for a minute and looked up at him.

“I suspect His Majesty is just wanting you to look as good as possible, Sire.”

“Meaning he wants to control every aspect of this ball to keep me in place?”

“Arthur! You can't speak about your King that way.”

“Whoops! Guess I shouldn’t call him a mean old bastard either.” He said this in a whisper, like he was telling her some big secret.

Gwen gaped at him and poked him right in the center of his chest.

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that.”

“Whatever helps to go on Gwen.”

She scoffed and busied herself with the measuring tape.

As she measured, Arthur smiled at how much she hadn’t changed over the years. Despite them growing to be good friends and speaking to one another on a daily basis, she always managed to trip over her own words. 

Arthur liked her for years when she first started serving Morgana. It was the first time he had met someone his own age that didn’t make him want to be sick with their scent. Arthur probably would have courted and married her if she weren’t a beta and a servant to boot.

All worked out fine though, he had no regrets. Gwen and his knight, Lancelot, had been circling each other for months and it was clear to everyone but them how much they adored each other. Arthur knew he wouldn’t have been able to love Gwen as Lancelot did. They had something special.

Gwen lifted his arms and measured his wing span. Arthur had enough of this silence and spoke once more.

“So this mating ball, what do you think of it?” Arthur asked. Gwen looked at him relieved and continued prodding him while she considered her answer.

“Well, I’ve only recently heard of it. The castle is actually in a huge flurry. The King made arrangements with the guests months back to make sure they started preparing for the journey, but for some reason did not inform us until now. I have to make a new dress for Morgana and a new jacket and trousers for you. You know, typical mating fashion in Camelot colours. 

“But despite all the new work, I’m kind of excited for it. I heard even the servants have to dress in their finest and join in some of the festivities if a noble takes an interest in them. I think it will be good to celebrate before things get cold and rough.” 

Arthur sighed at her response. He expected her warm and diplomatic response, but had hoped for someone to hate it as much as he did. Someone to confide in all his worries. He should have known that Gwen was not the person to complain to. She was the most open minded and kind person he knew.

“I suppose you are right. I’m just not excited about the room full of hormones and odors. I wish I could just get away from all of it.” Arthur sighed.

Gwen paused herself and looked at him with consideration. “You know, I could probably ask Gaius if he could whip up something to lessen your sense of smell or even melt some beeswax and plug your nostrils for the Ball. How does that sound?” Her face was earnest and oh so precious.

Arthur couldn’t help but be tempted. The idea of not smelling anything was tantalizing, but it was terrifying. He felt blind without his sense of smell. 

“No, no Gwen. I can’t. The King has told me in no uncertain terms that I have to mate by the end of this ball. If I can’t smell them, what if I choose someone terrible that I have to spend the rest of my life with? No, no. I’d rather have one terrible night than a thousand.” Arthur said resolutely, shaking off the last tendrils of temptation.

“Now, enough about the ball,” Arthur continued, dropping his arms and sitting down at the table where his cold, unappealing breakfast sat. “it’s too depressing. What else is going on, how are things with Lancelot?” He said this with a wiggle in his eyebrow and a grin.

Gwen groaned and sat down opposite him, finally dropping all her nerves.

“There are no ‘things with Lancelot’” She said vehemently with air quotes.

“You can’t fool me, Gwen. I know you and him. You should just ask him to court you already. I know he won’t on his own.”

“I can’t just ask him to court me! He has to out of his own free will! If he really liked me like you say he does, then why won't he just make a move!” She said hotly, deep splotches of maroon on her brown cheeks.

“Well, I can assure you it will go in your favor. I have some knowledge, if you are interested in hearing it.”

She squinted her eyes and looked at him intently. “What sort of knowledge?”

“Lancelot is a sweet, innocent soul. He thinks you are better than him. That he doesn’t deserve you and wants to prove himself in friendship before even thinking of a courtship.” Arthur says casually, knowing the true weight of his words for the girl in front of him.

“ _Me_ better than _him_? He’s a knight of Camelot. He's a noble for God's sake! I’m just a servant and he thinks he was to prove himself to me? What a hard headed idiot!” She spoke with disbelief until it bled itself to pleasure. Her blush deepened and she smiled to herself indulgently.

When several moments had passed with silence while Gwen contemplated his words, her eyes glazed. He waved his hand in front of her face to bring her back out of her fantasies.

“You alright?” Arthur asked.

“ _Alright_? Alright, you ask? I’m ecstatic!” Gwen giggled. “I’m afraid I have to bid you farewell, I have a hard headed knight to find.”

Arthur snorted as he watched Gwen leave the room humming to herself.

"Gwen!" She turned back to face him. "I expect full details when I see you next. You hear me? Full details."

Gwen threw her head up and laughed.

"You wish!"

With that Gwen saunters out, a new confidence she did not have when she first came in.

Arthur suddenly was in a good mood. Happy that he was able to bring two people he loved together. But despite his pleasure, Arthur knew there were preparations to be made for the ball.

He had just two weeks to figure out this mess of a situation. Just two weeks to find someone to mate with. 

Or else he would be stuck with some disgusting smelling, simpering omega that was picked for him.

Forever.

…

“...think we’ll arrive soon? I hope so! We’ve been on this road for days already. Oh I bet Camelot will be beautiful! Though I don’t know why they decided to host an Omega Ball at this time of year. They’re practically begging for dreadful weather. I can’t stand all those messy leaves littering about. Well, no matter. Merlin? Are you listening to me? MERLIN!”

At the shout of his name, Merlin shut his book closed and looked up at his cousin with wide eyes. The usually composed princess was red faced and scowling, her moonshine hair falling out of its up do from the long journey. She blew out an exasperated breath and tugged on her gloves by the lace piping in an uncharacteristic gesture of nerves.

“Yes, yes of course! Yeah. That’s me! Listening away.” The lower lid of her eyes came up to meet the top in a tense union. “ I mean... uh. Something about the weather?” Merlin said with an upward intonation. Well shit. He had spaced out again.

The other woman in the carriage sighed at the interaction and shifted her legs to cross in the opposite direction, her maroon gown twisting with the movement.

She glanced at Merlin for several long tics as if trying to suss out some blatant deformity she had previously missed.

“Did you hit your head somehow today?” She barked. 

“No Your Highness.” At her tone, Merlin’s head dropped down in a show of subordination.

“Then can you please explain to me how you forgot all your manners? You cannot ignore when someone is speaking to you.” 

“Yes Your Highness. I apologize.”

“Apologize to whom?”

Merlin looked over to his cousin and subtly gritted his teeth before politely saying, “Anna, I sincerely apologize. I will be more engaged next time.” He hated this.

Anna lifted her eyes skyward in a mock show of thought before answering. 

“Yes, well I suppose that will do.” The princess smirked. Twisting her pretty face into something sinister. “Just don’t be forgetting your place cousin of mine. You are just here to mingle and make me look good for Prince Arthur.”

She leaned forward while somehow keeping her ladylike composure.

“Don’t you even dare think about messing up and stealing any attention. And don’t think about bagging a mate. You’re a terrible excuse for an alpha. No girl would even look twice. Poor little Merlin.” With that she leaned back and dismissed the idea of any further conversation. Merlin flinched at the insults.

The woman smiled at her daughter, making her seem quite beautiful. A false promise given the darkness within her.

Queen Blanche, a stunning woman by anyone’s standards, sat in the small carriage with an infinite amount of charm and grace. Back in their Kingdom, she was known for her philanthropy and kindness. An utter crock of shit, but she pulled it off well. 

She had faint wrinkles gathered around her eyes and mouth, but otherwise her face was all elegant slopes and smooth curves. Her cheekbones were much like Merlin’s own; high up on her face and sharply defined. They contrasted well with the softness of her jaw and chin.

Her coloring was identical to her daughter’s with white blonde, wispy hair that was straight as bone and a pair of deep green eyes. Within them lied specks of brown and yellow. 

Merlin grew up feeling so much uglier in comparison. He had heard it all his life from the gossiping servants. The poor thin boy with his too big ears and his gaunt face. 

It was surprising to newcomers in the castle to hear that he was related to these two, beautiful women. 

Not only did they look as different as they did, but he wasn’t treated as royalty.

Despite technically being the crown prince of his kingdom, he was not raised that way. 

The Kingdom of Wyllt used to be reigned by Merlin’s father and mother. Balinor and Hunith. But when his father died and his mother ran away, Balinor’s brother, Melwas, took over the realm.

Under his reign the once humble kingdom dedicated to finding peace for its citizens and fostering magic in a healthy way, lost all its charm in Melwas’ efforts to become rich. Though the noblemen and royalty prospered, everyone else became overworked and unhappy.

Everything good about Merlin’s childhood became lost. His Uncle banned magic his first day as king and Merlin had to pretend to give up his gifts.

They became known for their precious metals and coal as they slowly stripped the Earth of its resources.

Merlin was devastated. His parents were gone and his happiness with them. And he was stuck under the raging thumb of a lunatic and his wife.

He had to bite back tears at the thought of his mother who had run away without more than a goodbye and a promise to come back for him. A promise that was never filled.

Though his life since had not been too terrible. For the most part his aunt and uncle ignored him, but that gave him the freedom to run around the castle and make friends with the servants. Merlin was grateful to be ignored.

But it all ended a few weeks prior, when they received a letter written by King Uther Pendragon of Camelot announcing a Mating Ball in his son's honor.

Merlin had hoped to be left behind for the journey, but he unfortunately was required to attend. As the prince of their Kingdom, Merlin had to be there in his father’s place.   
  
Merlin didn’t have any true opinions on the prince of Camelot. The rumors said he was beautiful with honey colored hair and a strong nose. Once, when Merlin had seen a charcoal sketch of the prince, he had blushed at the image and ran off to his room to will the redness away. He could not deny that if the illustrations were to be accurate, this prince was compelling. 

But with all his beauty, he had a reputation for being rude. He was known to snap at people and scrunch his face as if he were smelling feces. That should have stopped pining from maids and ladies everywhere, but it seemed to only intensify his allure.

Merlin squeezed his eyes shut to dispel these thoughts. He was an alpha for God’s sake. He should not be pining for another alpha and focus on finding an omega to mate with him at this ball.

One that didn’t care to have children.

That thought made his mood drop even further. Merlin could ignore most of the taunts and jibes from his family, but there was one thing that truly embarrassed him.

Merlin was sterile.

It would have been fine if he were a normal person. If he wasn’t the Prince. If he wasn’t an Alpha. 

Alpha’s were supposed to be these big strong men, capable of protecting and providing for their mate’s needs. 

Merlin would never fit the bill with his thin limbs and his lack of physical drive. Instead of being a warrior with a high kill count like the knights in Wyllt, he was a bookworm and a pacifist. 

Before Merlin hit puberty, he hoped he would be an unremarkable beta, but low and behold he had his first rut a few weeks after his 13th birthday. 

But it wasn’t normal. It was a dry rut.

No one other than him and the court physician knew. He had sworn the man to secrecy.

Merlin inwardly sighed at his thoughts and closed his eyes. He hoped to get some sleep before arriving.

It wasn’t long before he was awoken by an excited squeal and a bumpy halt of the carriage. He opened his eyes and saw the smiling faces of Anna and his aunt.

Their stout footman opened the side door and let them out. The women plumped and smoothed their gowns and looked up at the castle. Merlin followed in suit. The magnificent building looked as if it were piercing the sky, like the clouds had to loop around its spires.

Merlin took a few moments to stare at the sight in front of him in awe. He had always been proud of his kingdom, but its land were small and so was its castle. It was nothing as opulent as this.

He was startled out of his thoughts when Anna grabbed him by the arm and dragged him forward. 

She looped her arm around his as if holding on to a toy. “Excited to play Prince, little Merlin?” She asked sarcastically.

“I’m not that much younger than you!” Merlin huffed. “And for your information, I can’t wait to get this all over with and get back to being barely tolerated.”

“Oh don’t give me that little cousin. I bet you are spilling your pants at the thought of an omega giving you a passing glance.” 

Merlin looked at her blankly.

"Hmm no? Oh I get it! Always knew you were a sexual deviant. You are getting hot over Prince Arthur aren't you?"

Without his permission, Merlin’s ears flushed and the back of his head started pounding. 

“Wrong.” She was right. “The prince is probably some disgusting pig. I don’t care either way.”

Anna turned her head forward and let out a deep chuckle, seeing right through him. “Yeah you keep telling yourself that. Just watch as I charm him and mate him. Since you obviously don’t care.”

“I don’t.” He said with more conviction that he felt. “And since I obviously don’t care, I’ll be reading in the carriage until someone shows us to our rooms.”

At that he extricated himself from her grasp and marched back over to the carriage. 

“Merlin come back here! Merlin you have to come and greet the Prince with me. MERLIN!” Anna stomped her foot.

He muttered profanities to himself and walked right past Blanche and the servants helping them with their things. He sat himself down with a huff and picked up the battered book at the page he stopped at.

Once more Merlin lost himself in his favorite story of magic and love. It twisted together his adoration of fantasy and romance in the book, _The Twisted Tale of Ector the Squire_. 

Settling into his seat even though his bum was already numb from the trip, Merlin enraptured himself again.

…

“Good! Your sword arm is strong and your eyes are quick. In battle against untrained bandits, you might even come out alive.” Everyone chuckled. “But your defence is sloppy. I see at least 4 points of contact that I could hit and leave you stranded.” Arthur walked a slow circle around the new knight. “stomach, right knee, inner thigh, and shin.”

The young knight, Vortimer, looked up at Arthur questioningly. The prince took pity on him and gestured for the short boy to sit along with the rest of the knights for a demonstration.

“The forgotten principle of fighting is balance. Strength, speed, and strategy are all critical elements of being a knight, but without balance it all falls apart. Focus too much on one element, for example, strength and you can deal fatal blows, but you can’t sidestep a strike.” Arthur watches some knights nod and others look confused. Gwaine looked bored as always and some of the older knights sat politely, having heard this speech time and time again.

“Vortimer, your stance and posture have no balance.” Arthur moved into a position similar to the knight’s previous one.

“Your feet are both facing forward and almost in line with one another. Your heel is up, minimizing contact with the ground. Your body is facing directly with your opponents, giving them full access to your entire torso. Your sword arm is holding the weight of your weapon by the wrist and your non-dominant arm is forced to be held out to the side to balance the poor position of your feet.”

The group chuckled as Arthur struggled to stay upright.

“Alright then, come on.” Arthur kept the bad fighting stance and motioned at Vortimer to join him. He reluctantly stood and walked over to the prince.

Arthur rolled his eyes at the hesitation. “Come on! Push me!”

Vortimer’s eyes widened and shuffled over, still hesitant at pushing the crown prince of Camelot. “Re-really?”

“Yes! Now get on with it already.”

Vortimer sucked in a short breath and pushed Arthur’s shoulders. From the small contact, he fell back onto his arse without grace and the entire group of knights burst into uproarious laughter.

“Sire! Sire I am so sorry!” Vortimer exclaimed and held out his hand for Arthur to take. With a laugh, Arthur took his hand and yanked the poor boy onto the ground.

“Terrible balance!” Arthur cackled, this time holding out his hand for Vortimer to take to show his good humor. The boy seemed to understand and cracked a smile right back.

“To further the lesson of balance today, you will all finally be doing some combat...” The crowd whooped at that. 

“BUT you will be wielding a weighted staff with your _opposite_ arm!” The younger knights groaned and booed. “Oh come on it’s not that bad. Now keep in mind the position of your feet. Angles and contact is your best friend. Keep your whole foot on the ground. Your instinct might be to lift the heel, but don’t. Keep your knees bent, stagger your legs, and remember where the weight of your body lies, the pelvis and the head. Alright! You’ve heard enough of my yapping. Let’s train!” With that the knights jumped up and started pairing up.

They had an even number of knights, so Arthur stepped back and watched. Every few seconds he would correct a mistake or make a suggestion. 

The prince took in a deep breathe and reveled in the scent of the fresh air with the earthy smell that always accompanied fall. 

As Arthur watched his knights, he felt a rush of contentment at their dedication and progress. He loved teaching the new recruits and seeing them come out of their shell. All of them came in with potential, but fear of disappointing the crown prince, so Arthur did everything in his power to motivate them and show them that he was a man of flesh and blood as much as they were.

His father didn’t approve of his methods at first. Uther thought that his son was coddling the men. He thought great knights were born from pressure and fear. Arthur disagreed and thought that true strength and loyalty came from earning their respect as a teacher and a leader. After a while, even Uther couldn’t disparage his results as Head Knight. 

Though that is not to say that Arthur had always been mature in his leadership. There were years where he blindly believed in his father’s rhetoric. It wasn’t until he had a bout of sickness leaving Sir Leon in charge for a week that he realized his mistake.

He had come back to continue his position early in the morning and saw Leon smiling at a new recruit, the entire group laughing good naturedly and looking more relaxed than Arthur had ever seen them.

At first he was filled with blinding rage at the display and had planned to march up to Leon and yell at him, but something held Arthur back. He stood there, out of sight from the field and watched as the knights trained and improved. They asked Leon questions and laughed off small mistakes.

It hit him that his knights never asked him questions. They were too afraid of him. He realized that he wasn’t fostering a good learning environment. He was instead weeding out the kind-hearted warriors that could have been great if Arthur had not mentally beat them down.

At that moment Arthur swallowed his pride (which was quite a feat if you acknowledge how large that pride was) and stepped into the courtyard. At first everyone halted and Leon froze except for his eyes, tracking the prince’s movements. 

With his chin held up high, Arthur walked over to the seating area and asked for Leon to continue as usual. He confessed that he wanted to learn how to be a better teacher to them and he did.

A few weeks later he had strengthened the knights tenfold and made his first real friends.

Smiling wistfully, Arthur looked upon his men, the mightiest warriors in all of Albion, with pride.

Another hour of combat and critic passed before Arthur halted them.

“Great job everyone! I saw some real improvement. Now you know the drill, two laps around the courtyard and then stretching.”

He heard a chorus of yes sires and groans. Smiling indulgently, Arthur took off to complete his own two laps.

Around his second lap, when he was nearing the castle entrance, he saw a black carriage and a few people gathered. Arthur slowed down to a jog and changed directions to move toward the activity. 

He halted when a gust of wind brought the familiar scent of pine and pepper as well as a mixture of new scents making his nose itch. What he did recognize was the strong scent of an omega cutting through the others.

Arthur blanched at the realization that it was starting. The first guests had arrived. It wasn’t uncommon for people to arrive five days in advance. It usually meant that they came from a kingdom far away, so they allotted more time for unexpected delays during their trip.

He was about to turn around and quietly leave the scene when his father spotted him.

“Arthur! Come greet the guests!” Arthur winced and quietly cursed the sky before plastering on a charming smile. He turned toward the castle and jogged toward them.

After coming in at his side, Uther clapped his back and smiled wide.

“Ahh the man of the hour. Ladies, this is Arthur. Arthur please welcome Queen Blanche and her daughter Anna” Uther said. Arthur felt distinctly like he was laying his head down on the chopping block.

The older of the two women stepped forward first and held out her wrist. Arthur took her hand in his and kissed the back of her knuckles. His upper lip brushed against the sleeve of her dress.

He took in an unfortunately timed breath and caught a large amount of a charred and rotten apple. Like dousing a fire with juice, hoping to cover the smell. It didn’t work.

He took a jerky step back, but was happy to have hidden his need to swallow back bile.

“It is lovely to meet you, Queen Blanche. I hope you enjoy your stay in Camelot. Was your trip pleasant?” Arthur managed to say smoothly.

The Queen smiled warmly and replied, “And you as well Arthur. What a charming man you are!” She brushed back imaginary fly-aways in her hair. “The ride here was long, but uneventful. I am just so happy to be here. My daughter is so excited to meet you.”

As if on cue, the woman next to her stepped in Arthur’s direction.

“Hello my Prince.” She gave a shy smile that he could not help but return. Arthur recognized the smell of an omega from her and held out his hand turned up just as her hand reached out to him turned down.

He kissed her hand and she kissed his.

He breathed in her surprisingly palatable scent.

Usually people who were closely related had similar scents. Gwen told him that he smelled faintly of pine like his father, but had no harsh scent of pepper. Arthur could not smell himself well, so he had no idea if he smelled as bad to omegas as they smelled to him.

From the darkening of her eyes, he suspected Princess Anna did not find his scent repulsive.

Her own scent was nothing like her mother’s. While it did have traces of a burnt smell, it was more likely that she picked it up after days stuck in a carriage together.

Instead Anna smelled like blueberry wine that had been fermenting a tad too long. Not horrific, but rather a little bit wrong, a little bit false.

He was happy to not have to fight the urge to jump back. Arthur let his smile grow larger and watched as her shy smile turned to a beaming one.

He was beyond relieved that the first omega he met was loads better than Lady Cassandra. While he didn’t feel any feelings toward this girl other than not hatred, it would not be hell on Earth to be married to her. Knowing he would not be stuck to a Cassandra smell alike let some previously unbeknownst tension in his shoulders seep out.

“A pleasure to meet you Princess Anna.” He said cordially.

“A pleasure as well.” She curtsied and bowed her head.

At that moment he saw a movement from the carriage and a foot briefly come into view. Arthur knitted his eyebrows together, not remembering his father introducing a man for that foot was definitely encased in a boot and attached to a leg wearing trousers.

“Excuse me ladies, but who might that be in that carriage?” Arthur questioned.

Anna’s face briefly contorted into a scowl before smoothening out and answering him.

“Oh that’s just my cousin, Merlin. Come over here Merlin and greet the King and the Prince!” She waited a moment and sighed when he didn’t respond. Arthur figured that this was a common occurrence. She stalked over and took his arm, dragging him over. 

The man that came into view brought breath into Arthur’s lungs as if it were his first. 

Merlin’s legs were long and thin seemingly without a stone of fat or muscle on him. That seemed to be the theme of him. His long arms leading into thin wrists and bony fingers. Despite his clumsy walk up to the palace steps, there was a hidden gracefulness in his elongated limbs. He had an undeniable feminine quality to him even with his broad shoulders, height, and complete lack of curves.

Arthur was thoroughly annoyed to note that this man had a few centimeters on him.

Leading up his tunic and long neck, was a striking face.

Merlin had blue eyes like his own, but they were deeper like the blue of a lake at twilight. His wide eyes were resting between a long nose that sloped into a wonderfully curved mouth. The cupid's bow was clearly defined and the top lip was just barely bigger than the bottom.

The man’s most defining feature, however, was a set of glorious cheekbones. His bone structure and jawline marked a strong masculinity that paired with a slight scruff of a beard lining his jaw.

A shock of black, slightly curled hair fell just over his eyes and his abnormally large ears. Arthur couldn’t help but think that the size of them made him look endearing. 

Arthur tried to snap out of his stupor. 

Once Merlin stepped into line with his aunt and cousin he said, “Merlin was it? Not a very effective hiding place if you ask me. Too scared to meet the Prince? I understand, I can be very intimidating.” He used this veiled insult as a way to get back his bearings. 

Against this beautiful creature he felt practically naked in his sweat soaked tunic and trousers. He was wearing his training clothing which was worn with hard work and thin so as to not overheat him. He felt like swine in front of the graceful man. 

Merlin’s wide eyed expression quickly flushed and turned cross. “Well if I knew you’d be such a _prat_ , then I wouldn’t have come at all.” 

Arthur’s eyes grew impossibly wide and almost gaped at the display of disrespect. This man’s first introduction was to call Arthur a prat. Prince or not, Merlin was below Arthur in station.

Blanche let out an embarrassed gasp at her nephew’s behaviour. She walked over him and cuffed his head.

“I am so deeply sorry for Merlin’s behaviour. He’s a bit daft. Couldn’t leave him at home, poor dear is just lost on his own.” She explained. 

Merlin let out a self-deprecating laugh.

“Oh yes, don’t mind me. I’m an idiot. Can’t even tell a person from a potted plant. Very daft.”

“I could have you thrown in the dungeons for that sort of remark! Treason against the crown.” Arthur warned. He drew his arms across his chest as a way to look more intimidating. Gaging from Merlin’s expression, it had not worked. 

“But seeing as you are an idiot without any sense, I’ll let you off.”

As Merlin opened his mouth to respond, the Queen tightened her hold on his bicep as a warning. 

Merlin rolled his eyes and sighed in a put out manner.

“Thank you so much for your wonderful kindness my great powerful godlike lordship! I bow down to your mountains of good charm.” His words dripped with sarcasm and disdain.

Arthur only smirked, his heart racing as if he were mid battle. He had never had someone stand up to him before. It felt good.

“Just ‘sire’ will suffice.” 

The two of them stared at each other, making a silent challenge. Arthur was a little furious at the boy in front of him out of habit, but more than that he was fascinated by him. The prince wanted to keep angering Merlin. He wanted to see him even more riled up. 

They continued to stare at each other with crackling intensity when a servant rushed out oblivious to the display of agitation.

“Your rooms are ready Queen Blanche, Princess Anna, Prince Merlin.” She bowed low and lifted her head to notice the standoff between the two Princes. 

Then Queen Blanche’s face lost its tension and dropped her hand from Merlin’s arm. Arthur wondered if the skin would bruise.

“Oh thank you dear, please lead the way!” The Queen said, happy to get away from the hostile environment. “Come along dears, let us get some rest before dinner.”

Though softly said, Arthur could recognize the command. Anna quickly followed her mother up the steps followed by her cousin at a slower pace.

Merlin walked past him with a glare, close enough for their clothes to brush. He walked up the steps while Arthur breathed in the scent of the infuriatingly beautiful man.

At the smells that entered his nostrils, Arthur let down his mask completely and gaped. He was lucky that he had turned away from his father.

Merlin smelled _amazing_. 

He smelled like a spring rain hitting the earth. Like crisp morning air. Like laughter and soft wool and fresh linens. And underlying it all was this addictive manly smell. Something even Arthur couldn’t describe.

He smelled like nature itself and like all the best memories of his childhood. Arthur wanted to press his nose into Merlin’s neck and mouth at the hollow of his throat to soak in that smell. 

Suddenly all those things other alphas talked about made sense.

But Merlin’s scent wasn’t decadent, ambrosial, devine, the sweetest of flowers like they described. It was infinitely better.

Arthur’s entire life he had been bombarded by different scents. It was hard for him to connect with others due to his sensitivity. Though he had a knack at discerning one’s character through their scent, it had still hindered his ability to make friends. He knew that many people thought he was rude when in reality he was simply overwhelmed.

Merlin defied Arthur’s entire life experience with people’s scent. Merlin’s odor wasn’t great because it was intoxicating and all consuming. It was great because it seemed to wipe away all others around him. It was perfect for Arthur because it was subtle and simple.

Just by being there, Merlin had given Arthur a few blessed minutes without the pine and pepper of his father, the burnt, rotting apple of Queen Blanche, and the blueberry wine of her daughter.

It was so natural that he hadn’t even noticed the change.

For once he could _breath_.

Arthur barely restrained laughing and whooping like he wanted to when he remembered his father’s presence. 

It had only been a couple of seconds since Merlin passed him and only a few minutes since he had met him, but Arthur’s life had changed completely and utterly.

Instead of plotting ways of finding alone time with Merlin, Arthur turned around and faced the stony expression of his father.

“Arthur. Do not antagonize the guests.” Uther growled. “Princess Anna’s kingdom is small, but their metalwork and seamstresses are renowned. Marrying her would be an asset to Camelot.” 

Arthur narrowed his eyes at his father. Uther had never cared for metalwork or clothing before. The prince wondered what was really the interest in Queen Blanche’s Kingdom. 

“I apologize father. There was just something about that boy.” Arthur said in a moment of weakness. He suddenly clammed up and awaited his father’s response. He wished he hadn’t said anything. Maybe his father could sense his desire for Merlin?

Luckily, Uther seemed not to notice.

“Well, I am glad you held back your anger, Son. We would not want to get into Queen Blanche’s or her daughter’s bad graces. He had quite a mouth on him. Good thing his cousin is nothing like that. Odd looking alpha though, wasn’t he?”

An alpha? Arthur thought. Part of him was unsurprised by this revelation. There was a musk to Merlin that was distinct to alphas, now that he thought of it. But it was completely different to anything the prince had encountered before.

For a moment Arthur felt devastated that he could never be with the beautiful boy. Although Merlin was of royal blood, his father would never support a relationship between them. Even though he was a man, his father could have been persuaded to support them given time, but not if he were an alpha. That is where the older man truly drew the line.

But the more Arthur questioned himself, the more he was sure about his answer. Merlin had not had the cloying sweet scent of Princess Anna, that distinct omega scent. It wasn’t even the deep, rich, pungent odor of the typical alpha. It had been something special.

Now that he had met Merlin and knew what he would be missing out on, Arthur didn’t know if he could go on and mate with some perfume leaking omega.

Arthur fortified his mask hiding this internal dilemma and met his father’s eyes. “They did say he was touched in the head. I figured I had to let it go, considering his obvious idiocy.” 

“Very good of you Arthur. I am happy to see you make these decisions. As King you will have to decide who is punished. And you will have to decide who lives and who dies.” He leans in as if he’s about to tell a juicy bit of gossip. “It’s always best to let the idiots live, but give the ones who question us their due punishment. Keep the population in line, Son, and you will do fine as King.” Uther looked at him proudly and put his hand on his son’s shoulder.

Arthur was suddenly overwhelmed by the peppery scent of his father. A clawing came from his gut at Uther’s blatant corruption and lack of morals. He suddenly needed to get away from the domineering man. Mercifully, Uther sensed the conversation coming to its close.

“You better get cleaned up and ready for dinner. You smell like the stables, Son. Though perhaps Princess Anna likes that.” He said with a disgusting smirk on his face.

“Thank you Father, but I think I will bathe before dinner. Wouldn’t want Princess Anna too besotted. I have other women to entrance, after all.” Arthur said reluctantly.

Uther clapped his shoulder. “Atta boy! Finally getting over your worries I see. A room full of omegas hoping to bed you. What’s not to like?”

With that his father walked into the castle in good spirits while Arthur’s plummeted. The Mating Ball seemed even more horrendous if that were possible. Now that he knew Merlin existed, he couldn’t possibly mate with a single one of them.

This was worse than his feelings for Gwen. Then it had been a relief to find someone he cared for deeply, but it only took seeing the love she felt for Lancelot to realize his feelings for her were purely platonic. He sensed that he would not get over Merlin so easily if the boy found someone else to love.

In fact, the thought of it spiked hot pain into Arthur’s abdomen.

Making up his mind, the sweaty man briefly ran over to the training grounds to dismiss his knights and then made his way back into the castle. 

He headed straight for his rooms, ignoring every person and their greetings. There was no time for any of that. He had to get planning.

After swinging the door to his quarters open, he caught the _cranberryrose_ of George and saw him timidly turning down his bed,

“George!” Arthur fumed. “Go fetch some hot water for a bath at once!”

“Yes sire. Immediately sire.” He bowed before hurrying out.

Relaxing after the last dredges of that smell left the room, Arthur crumpled on the desk chair. 

He sat and thought over and over what he could do about the situation, but it all seemed hopeless.

Any way he thought about it, the only option was to run away together and leave both their kingdoms without an heir. That was obviously not going to happen. No matter if it was something he secretly fantasized about. He would never actually leave his kingdom or ask Merlin to leave his.

Arthur banged his head on the desk and groaned so loud a passing servant came in to check on him.

After going about it at all angles there was only one option for him to proceed.

He had to ask for _help_. As much as that pained him. From the last person he ever wanted to ask help from. Morgana.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading the first chapter of my first fic!!!
> 
> I have a lot of fun ideas for this work, so worry not! I have an ending planned. If you notice any glaring mistakes I have missed feel free to point them out to me. This most definitely does not have a beta yet. If anyone wants to britpick this (and help fix the glaring tense inconsistencies) I would be eternally grateful.
> 
> Lovely


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